


Rivers & Roads

by rivlee



Series: No Dominion [7]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-18 03:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can go home again. Tales from the first winter back in Germania.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from The Head & The Heart song of the same name.

Nasir and Elill looked absolutely miserable the closer they drew to the northern lands and the sea coast. They were huddled together, shuffling as one under the heavy deer skin Agron had thrown around them a league back. It was a hilarious image with their height difference and the long-lengths of their snow covered hair peeking out from under their cloaks. 

Duro exchanged a smile with Agron and they both quietly laughed, breath dissipating in the chilly air. They were almost there, an hour or two from their uncle’s village, and it was hard to keep their joy contained. 

“Not all are so happy,” Iodocus muttered under his breath. 

For a boy who spent most of his years in the heat of Capua, he was recovering an ancient part of himself. Iodocus was finally coming into his own. The mischievous child still lingered in his eyes but a wise young man was starting to emerge from his frame. Iodocus had grown so much in the past year he was near Nasir’s height. He wore his rust-colored hair braided in a style Gannicus showed him; in honor of the man who knew words only the two of them could speak. Duro had offered to find him a way back to his family before they left the remnants of Gauls in the mountains. Iodocus had cheekily smiled and replied he already traveled with them. 

“I do not understand why we could not stay with Donar and Mira in their village,” Elill grumbled.

“If we waited longer it would be worse. Winter is almost here,” Agron explained.

“Almost,” Nasir squawked. He stomped his feet. “I can barely feel my toes. If this is not winter itself I fear to go deeper into these lands.”

Agron turned and cupped Nasir’s cheek. “Do I not keep you warm enough?”

Elill let out a sound and slipped out from under the deer skin. “I shall just leave you two alone.”

Duro laughed when Elill wrapped his arms around him. “You come to claim my body heat then?”

“A fair trade for my willingness to trudge through this mess,” Elill said. He rubbed his cold nose against Duro’s neck and took a deep breath. “Please tell me we are almost there. All taunts aside, I do worry about staying out in this much longer.” 

Duro grasped Elill’s hands, covered in warm gloves, and squeezed hard enough to be felt through the layers of fur and fabric. He knew it was a gift, to still be alive, to have all his loved ones here. He would not risk it all for the urge to return home if he thought the way dangerous. He knew where they were though, close to his father’s birth village. The trees and rocks led the way. They’d just passed the old watch tower, the scratched image of a wolf still present in the stone, pointing them in the right direction north.

“Another hour at most,” Duro said. “Even shorter if some people would stop their cuddling.”

“Ah,” Iodocus said. He leaned down and gathered a handful of snow. He formed it into a perfect ball and threw it, hitting Agron right in the forehead. “If you are quite finished.”

Agron growled and looked ready to tackle Iodocus. It was only Nasir’s amused chuckle as he dusted the snow off Agron’s neck that stopped him. Duro was still amazed that his brother could so easily be restrained with a single look or touch. Granted, Duro and Agron usually encouraged each other’s tempers rather than tried to calm them. It was good to have some mostly sensible people around them. Not that Nasir, Elill, and Iodocus were without their moments. Nasir had the fiercest temper out of them all and was by-far the hardest to tame. It was much easier to sit back and let him burn the world down than try and stop him. 

He would fit in perfectly with the village. Iodocus would also find his place there, already an accomplished hunter. It was Elill who worried Duro the most. There would be nothing familiar to him here. There were no similar forms of worship. Elill had easily taken to their tongue though he still stumbled and stuttered over some of the words and phrases. He supposed he could teach some of his dances and learn others but would that keep him happy?

Duro jumped when Elill’s warm lips brushed his forehead. 

“Stop this worry,” Elill insisted. 

“I want you to be happy.”

Elill looked at him, snowflakes clinging to his dark lashes, and slowly smiled. “I am happier than I’ve ever known. Even standing here, walking deeper and deeper into this unending land of snow and ice. I trust where the gods lead me. They gave me you, after all.”

“A blessing and a curse,” Duro agreed. 

Elill nodded. “I welcome both.” He gestured to the others. “Now that I’ve put your worries to rest, may we continue before Agron follows Iodocus’ example?”

He reached up and wound his hands in the visible strands of Elill’s hair. “Let them wait a little longer,” he whispered before leaning up for a warm kiss in the cold.

*********************

In Duro’s memories his Uncle Erhard was a mountain of a man rivaling the size of Sedullus. In reality he was closer to Elill’s height and as broad as Lugo. He greeted them with laughter in his voice and tears in his eyes.

“My boys finally return home,” he declared to the clan.

He swept Agron and Duro up at the same time, clutching them to his chest. No words were spoken as they all took the moment to reunite.

“Don’t hog them,” a female voice yelled.

It sounded familiar though much deeper than he remembered. Duro almost dropped in shock when he pulled back from Erhard and saw a tall young woman with long dark hair and his mother’s green eyes glaring at them. 

“You two,” she said as she shook her fist,” you two are so lucky I am overjoyed to see you or else I would kill you myself.” 

“Gerlind,” Agron stuttered out as stunned as Duro. He stumbled forth to meet her. “I thought you dead.”

“Duro told me to stay in that hayloft until someone found me. I waited two days before I ran,” she said with a voice choked up with tears. 

Duro walked over to them after a shove from Erhard. His legs were unsteady. He could not believe she still survived in this world. He knew if she was here, obviously familiar to the clan gathered around them, it meant their parents well and truly dead. He expected as much. He never thought to see Gerlind again.

“You have grown so much,” Duro harshly whispered as he clung to her. She was almost as tall as him. 

“It has been five years, you fucking idiot,” she said. 

A round of familiar laughter shifted his attention. He turned to see Nasir, Elill, and Iodocus watching them. They were grinning even if they looked unsure at the events around them. 

“This is our sister, Gerlind,” Duro explained as he switched to Latin. 

“We gathered as much,” Nasir slowly answered in German. “She looks just like Agron.”

“With your nose,” Elill amended. 

“Forgive my manners,” Erhard said as he also spoke in Latin. “Introductions are in order. Let me declare you to the clan.” He strode over to the three and took each of them in a strangling hug before letting them go. “I received word of you in the letter Agron sent. Which one of you is Nasir?”

Nasir held up his hand. “I am.”

Erhard grasped his shoulder. “I am told you have the power to calm Agron. Raging as any sea storm that boy has always been. Never a moment’s peace when he got in a mood. Do you still love him even after this journey north?”

Nasir nodded. “More now than I ever have before.”

Erhard leaned down and kissed Nasir’s forehead. “Welcome to the clan.” He turned to Iodocus. “You are the lost little boy who got tangled up with them.”

“I am,” Iodocus said.

Erhard grasped his forearm. “You have helped save both my nephews and fought bravely for one so young. Do you wish to live among us and learn our ways?”

“It would be my honor,” Iodocus said.

“It would be ours,” Erhard corrected. He bestowed another kiss on his forehead. “Welcome to the clan.”

Duro held his breath as Erhard approached Elill. He leaned into the comforting holds of Agron and Gerlind. The winds even seemed to still as Erhard and Elill met.

“You must be Elill then,” Erhard said as he dragged him into an embrace.

“I am,” Elill said as he returned the action. 

Erhard stepped back and studied him. “I heard how you nursed Duro back to life, even when the gods saw fit to leave him.”

“I rather think they saw fit to save him,” Elill said.

Erhard nodded. “I suppose you would. I have met few others like you before, as if the very gods move through you, a messenger of their deeds.”

“I am hardly such,” Elill disagreed. “Just a man who clings to faith in an ever-changing world.”

“You are touched,” Erhard said. “Do you truly think the gods have led you to Duro?”

Elill gazed at Duro over Erhard’s shoulders. Their eyes met as he declared, “With all that is in me, yes.”

Erhard looked between them and smiled. He kissed Elill on the forehead in honor. “Welcome to the clan.”

He strode over to the clan’s people and declared them all. A cheer and murmur rang out when Nasir and Elill were introduced as spouses.

“Finally someone was willing to take them,” Freya called. “I figured I’d have to do it out of pity.

Duro snorted. Like they would _want_ to be one of the old woman’s playthings. She took and discarded lovers easily if they couldn’t pass her endurance tests. 

“To the feast,” Erhard declared.

“Please tell me it is somewhere _inside_ ,” Nasir whispered.

 

*********************

 

They were meant to be sleeping in the communal hut for traveling guests. It was impossible to do so with people dropping by to share stories and excitement still in the air. 

“We will build our own home once the ground softens,” Duro promised Elill. “This is only temporary.”

Elill shrugged. “I do not mind this, Duro. I’ve never had a home that was just my own. Only my own space shared in a place with others. My room back in Capua was the closest I’ve ever had to privacy and your saw how often others occupied it. I do not mind living amongst a large group.”

“A good thing then,” Duro said as another round of loud laughter and singing started. 

He looked around the hut to locate the others. Iodocus was sitting next to Erhard as Gerlind held his attention. She was shoving her bow into his hands as she explained each of the symbols and stories carved into the wood. Erhard occasionally made a comment with a certain look in his eyes.

“Poor, innocent Iodocus,” Duro muttered.

Elill followed his gaze. “Why do you say that?”

“I’ll explain in the next few days. Iodocus may find himself swept up into some of my family’s more interesting traditions.”

He wouldn’t worry Elill, who still thought of Iodocus as the young boy he needed to care for, that Erhard was obviously contemplating a possible marriage. It was clear as his eyes flicked between Iodocus and Gerlind. Duro wasn’t bothered by it; he already intended to make Iodocus’ status as his heir official at the next meeting of the Elders. He would have to speak with his uncle. Iodocus and Gerlind both deserved a choice.

Duro searched the room until he found Nasir and Agron curled up in a corner. Agron’s hands were working out the snarls in Nasir’s locks as Nasir slept. He kept pressing small kisses into Nasir’s hair and closing his eyes as if he couldn’t believe they were finally here. Duro knew the feeling. Agron raised his head to meet Duro’s gaze. He nodded and smiled before returning his attention to Nasir. Lost in their own little world, like usual. 

Duro’s hands shook as he realized it was over; it was done. Everything they fought for, all the death, blood, wounds, tears, loss, it was finished. They were here and alive, surrounded by family. There would be dark times to come as memory reared its ugly head to remind them that those of greater might, heart, and honor died while they still breathed. 

Elill gripped his knee and Duro turned back to him. 

“Kiss me,” Elill ordered. 

Duro eagerly complied. His heart still jumped a little each time their lips met. He prayed that feeling never went away. He lost himself in this, the press of their lips together, the sensation of Elill’s hair sliding over his skin. There was the rough scrape of stubble as skin met skin. The familiar taste of Elill exploded across his tongue as he deepened the kiss. It ended with their foreheads resting together, both breathing much harsher than before. 

“That’s better,” Elill said when they pulled apart. “All the worry gone from your eyes.”

Duro buried his head in the crook of Elill’s neck and took a calming breath. He could still smell the winter and the forest all over Elill, muting the scent of his favorite hair oils. It was a heady combination that reminded Duro of where they were now. 

They were home.


	2. In Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even Agron falls to the common cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the _Nurse Me_ prompt requested by brandedwithfire

Agron was a truly miserable sight. He’d spent the past two days with complaints of a foggy head and a sore throat. He’d passed the previous night tossing and turning with little rest and now Nasir struggled to hold him up as they maneuvered back to the community hut. It had caused a scare earlier when Iodocus ran into the hut looking for Nasir with news that Agron had almost keeled over in the snow. Nasir _knew_ Agron should’ve stayed in bed from whatever sickness had taken hold but there was no victory to be felt now. Nasir had seen plague victims and knew Agron hadn’t contracted such, not unless it took such a course this far from Rome. Nasir was still worried; it had to be more than a simple illness to bring down a man such as Agron.

Nasir never was one to beseech the gods for prayers of good health but it couldn’t make things worse at this point. It helped having an intercessory so near. He relieved Agron of his cloak and boots before wrapping him up in the heavy furs of their bed cot. After a promise to return with a cup of wine, he sought Elill out at the smithy.

The smithy was a small wooden covered section of open huts full of ringing sounds as iron struck iron while Duro practiced under the watchful eyes of the master smith and Elill. The cold seeped in and around them even with the open flames Duro worked over. Nasir shivered under his cloak as a wild breeze ripped through. He couldn’t fathom how Elill or Duro could stand it out here. Nasir gestured for Elill to join him out in the snow path knowing there was no way to trade words over that noise. 

“How fares Agron?” Elill asked as he pulled a fur-lined hood over his long hair. 

“His knees gave out while clearing the paths,” Nasir admitted. He bit his lip and looked up at his friend, uncertain if asking for such prayers would cause offense. “Elill, surely there is something you can do. Are there not prayers to be spoken for healing?”

Elill shook his head. “None that will offer him comfort. Does his skin burn to the touch?”

“No.”

He gripped Nasir’s shoulder. “Then the only thing for it is endurance. I am certain he has survived worse than this Nasir. Agron is young and for the most part, in good health. I know your desire to make it better by the next dawn. Alas, neither the gods nor the body works in such ways.”

“His nose is red,” Nasir said. “His eyes are swollen. I have never seen him so ill not brought on by drink.”

“Germania certainly has a unique way of welcoming back its lost sons. He needs rest, as do you.” Elill turned his head and whistled. Duro immediately looked up and nodded at the two of them before turning to his work. Elill threw an arm around Nasir’s shoulder. “Let me escort you back to the hut. Perhaps we can convince Gerlind to brew a stew for us.”

“Will that help?” Nasir asked.

“It won’t harm,” Elill promised. “Do not worry yourself so. It is a common malady. I am sure we will all fall victim to it now that it has caught Agron. It’s the way of things. Surely they used to sweep through your old villa?”

Nasir logically knew it must have but his later years were spent with a man who was obsessive about his health. “I spent most of my time in quarters near the fuck who claimed to own me.”

“Ah,” Elill said. “And of course among the rebels you were largely removed from sleeping and bathing among the masses. This is an extremely common illness, Nasir. If Agron should start a fever we will treat it then.”

“You have something?” Nasir asked.

Elill nodded. “Willow bark. He will be nauseous from it and curse my name and the gods. It will help the aches from the fever and the coughing.”

“He will take it without complaint,” Nasir promised. He would see to it.

Back in the hut Gerlind was already at Agron’s side. She had a wet cloth over his eyes as she watched him sleep. She looked up at them and smiled. “I heated some water and submerged the cloth. I always find it sees me to an easier rest.”

Elill nodded. “Good for the swelling.”

Nasir glared at him. “You could not have offered _that_ advice?”

Elill shrugged. “You sought prayers and medicinal herbs.” He tilted his head to Gerlind. “I am sure she knows more of caring for Agron than I do. I leave you both.”

Nasir rolled his eyes at his infuriating friend before carefully sitting down beside Gerlind. He had no desire to disturb Agron’s rest; besides, he’d forgotten the wine.

“Just heat up more water if it gets cold,” Gerlind said. “Not too hot, mind you. If the water boils over the flames you will burn yourself and him. I will see to gathering supplies for a large pot of stew. If Agron has it, we shall all fall victims soon. He always was the first to fall ill and too stubborn to take rest, passing it on to lot of us. I do not envy you, brother.”

Nasir thought she spoke to Agron only to find her eyes resting on him. He laughed. 

“It is not a burden. I consider it a gift.” He grimaced as Agron hacked and snorted before shifting to his other side. “Even when he is not at his most charming.” He rewet the cloth and wrung out the excess before placing it back over Agron’s eyes and holding it there. “Gratitude, Gerlind, for your aid.”

Gerlind nodded. “He often cared for me when I was ill. It is time I repaid the favor. A small task I never thought possible a year ago.” She patted Nasir’s shoulder and left him to it.

Nasir kept his fingers light on Agron’s skin as he felt for fever and that steady, strong heartbeat. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Agron’s temple before lying down next to him. They would see this through the end together, like everything the fucking gods brought to their lives. 

Agron’s whole body wracked with a cough and he turned his head to hack something up before settling back to sleep.

Nasir grimaced. Nothing would take him from Agron’s side, not even his utter lack of manners while ill. He did not reap the benefits of this relationship only to abandon it when overcome by the lesser pleasant aspects of Agron’s body. 

He pressed his lips again to the warm skin of Agron’s face. “May sleep lead you to good health,” he prayed.


	3. For the Touch of Your Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duro's trying his hand at more delicate things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the _Offer Me_ drabble prompt request from LeTempest. Title from The Gaslight Anthem's _Desire_.

Duro was learning to admit he had a skill for metalwork. He would never be a sword smith, but he could easily fashion the more delicate and decorative things. Knives were good; cloak pins lasted longer, and jewelry was always in demand for trade. Duro’s best skill so far was used to make the much demanded cloak pins but he sought to make something else. There was a debt that still must be repaid.

He had the base ready and cool in front of him now. He only needed to make certain it would work before adding the final elements. Footsteps crunched on the snow outside the smithy and Duro looked up to find a welcome, if unexpected, guest.

“Ah, Nasir, just the Syrian I need. Come here.” He pulled Nasir into the forge and pulled off the hood of his cloak. He sat him down on the nearest stool.

“Have you lost mind?” Nasir questioned as he tried to stand.

“I never had one,” Duro replied. He tugged Nasir back down and tried one of the plain clasps in his hair. It held well enough.

“Why?” Nasir asked as gave in and huddled closer to the forge’s flames.

Duro laid the base claps to the side and gathered his smaller tools for the delicate detail work. “I am fashioning a gift for Elill. His hair is much thicker than mine and a different texture. I wanted to make sure these would stay.”

Nasir made a face. “They are a tad plain for Elill.”

“They are just the base,” Duro explained. “Not that he requires additional ornamentation; he does favor a certain style though. All those years catering to Romans, I wager.” 

Nasir nodded in agreement. “Why hair clasps?”

“He sold off many of his favorite hair clasps and pins, jewels, and baubles to see me to freedom. We never planned for the arena to burn down. A fitting fucking distraction if I do say so myself.”

“Madness runs in this family, doesn’t it?”

Duro looked up from the pot of melting bronze he stood over. “You are counted among us now, in all matters.”

“What detail are you adding?” Nasir asked. 

“Leaves,” Duro said. “It is a way to tie his worship with our own. Trees remain the most sacred of all items to this clan and spring is also so for Ishtar.” He looked up when Nasir coughed. “Yes?”

“I did not think you to be such a student of Elill’s faith,” he admitted. 

Duro shrugged. “His faith is an essential part of him. I am grateful he shares what he can. Even if I do not believe it, he does. I love and respect him, all aspects of him, even those I find fucking weird.”

Nasir shook his head. “You brothers, you only know how to love with your whole hearts.”

“There is no other way for us,” Duro confirmed. “Dalliances are one thing; shield-mates are another.”

He grinned at Nasir’s soft smile at such a confirmation. Duro mentally added a few more gifts to his list once he improved his skill with metalwork. His brother’s shield-mate deserved something special. Uncle had already approached him with ideas for designing a new family seal. Perhaps Nasir would favor a signet ring.

**************************

A fortnight later the hair clasps were fully formed and, after being inspected by the master smith, confirmed good enough for gifting. Duro had spent all day debating when to hand them over to Elill. He decided the best time would be during their nightly ritual. 

Duro never dreamed himself to become the man who took joy in the simple act of caring for another’s hair. Now it was one activity he sought when he needed to calm his nerves and still his temper. Nothing soothed him like the simple touch of Elill’s hair and skin. 

Elill happily drowsed as Duro brushed his hair out. It was so much longer now; Duro could wrap the braid around his arm twice over. He wondered just when Elill would declare it long enough. That time hadn’t come yet and Duro gladly helped to keep it healthy and see it free of snarls.

Elill nearly purred when Duro ran his hand down the brushed smooth length.

“Any second now I expect you to turn over and demand a belly rub,” he said.

“And to think, I believed you more than an innocent boy with adorable fantasies. If I roll over it is not my belly which should garner you attention,” Elill teased.

“I do have something for you.”

Elill laughed low.

Duro swatted his ass. “Later. Sit up; there is something I would show you.”

Elill rose with his usual grace. He stretched his long limbs out and the muscles rippled under the bronze skin. He grinned at Duro’s sudden distracted state. “I believe you were to show _me_ something.”

“If the others only knew what you were really like behind all the ceremony and mystery.”

“Oh, let them keep their delusions,” Elill said. 

Duro held out his wrapped up parcel. “I hope they don’t offend. It is my first time attempting such shapes. They are supposed to work.”

Elill took the gift with careful hands. “Duro, I already love them.”

Duro laughed. The man was too much. “You’ve not looked at them yet.”

Elill’s eyes shone with pride. “Whatever it is, it comes from your hands; that is enough.”

Duro shook his head. “Just open it.”

Elill delicately untied the leather piece holding the cloth tight. His breath caught as he looked at the set of bronze leaves. He carefully placed them in his lap and traced the craftsmanship.

“Duro…they are exquisite.” 

Duro let out the breath he held. “Let me see if they’ll hold in your hair. I tried to use them on Nasir but his hair isn’t even near your length. I know they can’t replace the golden ones you sold off but they will keep the hair from your face and cause less damage than the ties.”

He reached for one of the clasps when Elill caught his hand. “These are more valuable than any golden bauble or jewel ever passed into my hands. I will treasure them always. I will save them for a special occasion.”

“Fuck no,” Duro said. “Your hair is our clan’s source of pride and we will see it properly decorated with your permission. The Fenni clansman will just fucking lose it when they see you at the next meeting. The silver may look nicer but I’ll have to barter for more of it. A hair pin might be better for the silver anyway.”

“Duro,” Elill said. He gripped the back of Duro’s neck and pulled him close. “I have little desire for my hair to be tied back tonight. Tomorrow morning I will proudly wear your art nestled in my locks. Tonight I want it free as I take you.”

Duro stilled and nodded. “I welcome that strategic change of my plans.”

Elill nuzzled Duro’s ear. “You always have listened to you elders at the most opportune time,” he whispered.


End file.
